[Fic] Fall from Grace - 3/9
Nov. 25th, 2009 04:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
coley_merrinTitle: Fall from Grace
Author: Coley Merrin
Rating: R eventually (language, sexual situations)
Pairings: Siwon/Hankyung and Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi
Genre: AU, historical, romance
Summary: Abducted from the people he protects, Prince Han Geng vanishes, lost to men who care nothing for his safety. It is Siwon, a loyal soldier, who is tasked with bringing him back alive.
And while the search continues to save a life, Kyuhyun must find a way to ally himself with his future queen's steward - to overcome mistrust and join two countries.
***
Siwon let the horse’s stamina guide how fast they went, and for how long. The gelding was young and fit, but there was an extra man on him no matter how light he was. After a couple of hours they stopped from necessity, letting the horse drink his fill from a creek. He got the heavy skirt and top off of Han Geng, which left him in the filthy, stinking clothing he had been left in the jail with. But it would have to do, at least until they stopped at night. If they found another creek, perhaps they could find a way to wash Han Geng without freezing him.
“Are you more comfortable in front of me or behind me?” Siwon asked, some of the first words they had exchanged.
“Behind,” Han Geng said, not meeting Siwon’s eyes. There was some pride in that. “But I’ll be honest, I don’t know if I have the strength right now to keep myself on.”
“You will.” Siwon smiled at him.
It was as though they had agreed to put aside titles for the moment, the more pressing matter of getting Han Geng home sitting on them both. It was as though they were on the battlefield. And in a way, they were.
“Are there any wounds that need attention? Anything...”
“No. I can ride. Let’s get as far away as we can before the sun sets. If I pass out... I haven’t slept. I haven’t... Just keep riding.”
He offered Han Geng his water skin, watching him drink deeply. He refilled both of them that he had brought, and helped Han Geng onto the horse.
They rode again for hours, picking carefully as they followed in the stream, until it grew too narrow to walk in. The gelding shuddered, but gladly pulled himself up onto to bank. Han Geng, as he had warned, sagged between Siwon’s arms. Even despite the warning, Siwon raised a hand, checking for a heartbeat. Han Geng had felt secure enough, or was tired enough, to let himself slip into unconsciousness.
***
The castle accounts were under Kyuhyun’s purview. Inventories, lists, coffers. Everything came to his notice so that he could report on it to the king. He had employed the most well educated servants to keep the thick ledgers, those with the most legible writing and grasp of numbers kept the tallies. As season fell to season, especially as harvests came and went, and winter approached, the numbers became most important.
“Do you mean to replace me, Your Majesty?” he’d queried the king, when the suggestion had come that Zhou Mi also should be involved. He had not had a helper in the task since his predecessor had retired, and thought he did very well keeping up with it himself.
“You would work yourself into the grave,” the king had said, his eyes humored by Kyuhyun’s question. “With the lady’s household added to ours, and her goods arriving even now, it couldn’t hurt for Zhou Mi to be aware of the house, and it will lighten your load. I trust your judgement of people, Kyuhyun. Is it safe that he should learn that information? Would he use that against us?”
That had been uncomfortable. Imagining Zhou Mi using the lists of numbers, spying and informing their enemies. He tried to imagine an underhanded expression on Zhou Mi’s face, and nearly laughed in front of the king.
“No, Your Majesty. We’ll start immediately.”
And they had, that afternoon, collecting records and books, Zhou Mi graciously carrying what Kyuhyun could not. It had taken him one trip instead of two. So he had saved time already. And for hours, they had poured over the accounts. With so many people to feed, so many storage rooms, it took time to manage it all. Candles were lit, and a bright fire to aid their task. Kyuhyun sent for a light supper, eaten away from the delicate pages in virtual silence. And still they had worked. A maid chanced by with a small cask of wine, and they had stopped entirely to enjoy it.
“Everyone who will speak to me speaks very highly of the prince,” Zhou Mi said, pulling his chair just that much closer.
“He is a good prince,” Kyuhyun agreed, warmed by the alcohol and the comfortable chair near the fire. “He and our king were born with the same face. Instead of moaning that it should have been him on the throne, our prince uses his time to train our soldiers and care for our people. He may not be king, but he is needed here. He is most trusted by His Majesty.”
“Then you must work closely with Prince Han Geng.”
“Yes... I hold him in high esteem.”
“Something not given lightly or quick by Kui Xian,” Zhou Mi said.
“Don’t call me that,” he reprimanded, but it didn’t shake the quiet expression. Still, the way Zhou Mi had said it, that his esteem was held close was almost the slightest bit wistful, as though he desired to be held in Kyuhyun’s favor as well. He supposed that he did hold Zhou Mi a little higher than he had. He wasn’t the yappy little lap dog that Kyuhyun had first assumed, barking after Kyuhyun’s heels and bothering him in his routines.
There were times he found Zhou Mi’s presence to be a bit pleasant, turning to him with a question or a suggestion. And when Kyuhyun spoke, Zhou Mi answered his requests swiftly and effectively. Dispatching servants, organizing people with almost brutal efficiency. But he didn’t give to Kyuhyun. While he wasn’t loud or annoying, if he disagreed with Kyuhyun’s advice, he said so. And more often than not, he had a point, something that refined a task for the better, such as the storage of the goods that Zhou Mi had ordered brought. In theory, they ran two separate households, but working together, they functioned almost seamlessly as one. And while without grudge, Zhou Mi gave his respect for Kyuhyun’s position, his knowledge of the castle and the estate, he did not pretend falsely that he was somehow less than Kyuhyun.
But even if he had a tiny seed of respect for the man’s skill as an organizer, his trust was still withheld. It had been nearly two weeks since the prince had gone missing. In retrospect, the arrival of the king’s future bride had been good for them all, the king especially. It had given him something else to focus on besides the absence of his brother. They had all sent their share of prayers after Siwon in his quest. And from what he knew of Siwon, he would either come home triumphant with the prince alive, or he would bring back his body in sorrow. For Siwon, those were the only two options.
But he could see why Zhou Mi would be curious. The absent prince was a dynamic he hadn’t been exposed to. And assuming he truly had no knowledge of event, the prince’s place in the castle routine would need to be explained to him. Everything Kyuhyun knew, Zhou Mi would need to learn.
He wasn’t sure he had it in him to detail that, until the prince returned. Not yet.
“I can’t tell you about his schedule...” he began, trying to think of an excuse that would ring as the truth that didn’t intimate the worry that was in his heart. He could snidely imply that it was because there was no trust between them, but even that read false.
“I understand,” Zhou Mi interrupted, his voice soft. Maybe Kyuhyun had given too much away in talking about his esteem...
“We should sleep. These records will wait for us till the morning.” And the drink had made him maudlin enough without dwelling on things far beyond his control.
Zhou Mi waited until he had stood, helping him to stack the pages and tidy the crudely bound account books. His eyes strayed a bit too long on Zhou Mi’s hands. Long fingered, and with fine penmanship, he mused. The skin was probably cool there...
“Sleep well, Kui Xian,” Zhou Mi said, and his eyes shot to Zhou Mi’s face. The warm smile sent a flush down his spine.
The man had no right to wash away his worry with nothing but an expression and a few words.
“Always,” he managed to get out. “You as well.”
He realized as he swung the heavy door of his room closed, that he hadn’t corrected Zhou Mi’s use of his name. In the end, he mused, bundling himself in the thick covers, it really didn’t matter.
***
Han Geng breathed the stench of waste, hands exploring the wall of the dark cell, grasping at anything that would give him some idea of where he was. Or when it was. His stomach lurched, the ill feeling familiar to him as light blinded him. The face of his jailer came out of his dream.
“We found you,” the man said, laughing in great humor. “Found you cowering like a dog.”
“Siwon...”
An eyebrow rose. “The man with you? Him?”
Beside him, a body. Stretched out as though sleeping. But his clothes were stained, stiff with blood, his throat a horrible wound... Eyes blank.
“No!” he screamed, rushing at the jailer. But his hands wouldn’t work to choke the life from the laughing man. Instead, hands circled his own neck, squeezing until he couldn’t swallow, until he couldn’t breathe, until the pain of it made his head throb and eyes blur, all the while...the man laughed...and laughed...
***
“Han Geng!”
His prince was trying to shout, wordless, in his sleep, struggling against something unseen. A nightmare. Not uncommon after battle... Or stress or trauma.
He leaned over Han Geng, squeezing his shoulders and saying his name. Feeling Han Geng rise up out of the grasp of the terror.
“Shiyuan? he asked. “You’re alive...”
“I’m fine,” Siwon soothed him. “You’re all right now, too.”
Han Geng swallowed. “Oh. Oh. It was a nightmare.”
“Yes.”
Siwon realized he had been stroking Han Geng’s cheek, and forced himself upright. “Did you want to speak of it? Or is it best left alone?”
“I was back in the cell...And you were with me. They had killed you, and were killing me...”
“I won’t let them take you back,” Siwon said simply. “They’ll have to kill me first.”
“Siwon... That dedication...”
“You are known to me. Almost my whole life. Why should I not be dedicated and loyal to the man who looks after his people?”
Han Geng’s smile curved, but his head dropped. “Yes. The prince demands it.”
“No,” Siwon said, grasping Han Geng’s forearm. “Your title gives you the means to help, but it is you, the person, that does those things. The villagers look to you with awe as their prince, and as a good man. It may be wrong to say, and you must forgive me, but being a good man is worth more.”
“It is not wrong to say. Being a prince does not mean someone is good... Or being a king. I don’t do it to be seen as good. I just...see the need. We fight for these people and their safety, but their children go hungry? I can’t bear it.”
Siwon clasped both his hands over Han Geng’s, surrounding it in warmth. “We know of King Han Jun’s support and encouragement of you as well. I left before much news of your being taken had spread, but those who knew sent me with many prayers for your safe return. I hope they will keep your dreams clear as well.”
Han Geng hesitated, rubbing an unsure hand over his arm. With some deliberateness, he gathered the blanket, moving until he sat beside Siwon. Leaning against his shoulder, their heads close. “My mother used to say that just being near someone could drive the nightmares away.”
“I’ll even get a big stick and run it through.”
Han Geng laughed softly. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Siwon. I don’t feel like I have to pretend around you. So... Thank you.”
Siwon grasped Han Geng’s offered hand, their fingers lacing tightly together, palm against palm. He turned, ready to say, “Of course, Your Highness.” Or something closer to what he refused to admit, “I’m glad I’m with you, too.”
But Han Geng had already sank into sleep, head drowsy, heavy on Siwon’s shoulder. Han Geng… He forced his eyes away. Siwon adjusted the blanket at his shoulder, and allowed himself to doze, the quiet sound of the gelding cropping grass and Han Geng’s soft breathing lulling him into sleep.
***
Siwon woke with his arm around Han Geng’s shoulders, Han Geng’s head fully against him, his body curving there. He was still deeply asleep, a hand curled at Siwon’s waist. He had grown his whole life knowing this man as a prince, from the time he had first met Han Geng and Han Jun. He couldn’t have been more than four, the princes, clotted together with wide eyes, probably only six. They had been watching, learning, to fight. Siwon didn’t remember the strokes of the sword that day, but he did remember his teacher whispering to him, that those are your princes. Respect and obey them. It hadn’t been difficult to tell them apart. Han Jun was bolder, standing with pride that had been beaten into him by his uncle. Han Geng, quieter, from his voice to his laugh, different from his brother. It had been Han Jun’s boldness that marked them for friendship. Calling out Siwon to spar with him when their training began in earnest. He had fought with the idea of keeping the prince safe, and Han Jun had walked all over him. So he had been pinned with a red face as the men around them laughed, and Han Geng had knelt by them.
“You don’t have to be easy with us,” Han Geng said, his hand curling around his brother’s arm. “We need to learn... You’re a good fighter, Siwon.”
He had been too embarrassed to even look at them for a while. But the next time, it had been he who had pinned Han Jun. And there had been something in their grins that spoke of understanding. He had always wondered if Han Geng had felt badly toward him. As brothers born together, it was easy to spot their closeness. They could nearly read each other’s thoughts at times. And for Siwon to intrude... But in the little time they had for play, it had been the three of them defending their “forts” and taking “journeys.” No matter if he and Han Jun seemed to understand each other, Han Geng was always beside them.
And Han Geng was beside him now. He studied the parted mouth, how familiar it was to him. And different. Because it was Han Geng, and he had not contemplated that for quite some time. He inhaled sharply at the thought, those lips would be soft against yours, and that movement woke Han Geng.
He buried against Siwon’s warmth, breath damp against Siwon’s neck and his whole body felt it.
What was wrong with him?
“Good morning,” Han Geng said at length, voice a little raspy from sleep. “I seem to have used you as a pillow.”
“I’m at your service,” Siwon joked. “It’s cold enough for that to be a good thing.”
“I slept like the dead...”
There was a certain amount of apprehension in that statement, as though he had prepared himself to be awake to watch out for danger. As though he thought that were somehow required of him.
“No one will come up on us without me knowing,” Siwon assured him.
“I trust you... That’s why I slept so deeply.”
“You’re still recovering.” He stood, helping Han Geng onto his feet as well. For a long moment, Han Geng’s body sagged into his, before he seemed to find a sense of his own balance.
“I hate feeling weak,” he murmured, pushing himself back from Siwon.
“You’re much better already... Don’t trouble yourself in front of me.”
Han Geng smiled. “You should be thinking of a reward that suits you best... When we return, I think Jun would be willing to offer you anything. Indeed,” Han Geng joked, “he might be willing to replace me with you.”
“Never,” Siwon said, jiggling Han Geng’s elbow. He ignored Han Geng’s suggestion that he be rewarded. What happened would happen. It was, in some way, enough that the man with him was alive, but he knew there would be a reward. With this family, there had to be. “If you want to refresh yourself, I’ll put together some food.”
Han Geng nodded, picking his way carefully as though his bones were old. Siwon hid his smile, and pulled out the hard cakes and fruit that were to be their breakfast.
***
He could tell Han Geng was stronger, just in the way that he was more alert. He stayed awake nearly the whole morning as they traveled, dropping off in some sort of half sleep for a little while. Siwon hated to wake him, but it was necessary as he stopped to water the horse. Han Geng stretched out on the grass, pulling his body over his legs, to work tender muscles.
“I am all purple and green and yellow,” Han Geng said, and when Siwon turned, he realized that Han Geng had lifted his tunic to inspect the bruises on his ribs, on his side.
“Do they hurt still?”
“Not as much,” Han Geng said, touching the healing bruise over his cheekbone.
“They had no right to hurt you.”
“At least my bones are still whole.” Han Geng was finding the bright spot, where Siwon usually would have. “I know you and Jun will grumble, but if we can avoid a war, there’s no sense starting one over a few bruises. I suspect… The ransom money was too much to pass.”
“Did they hurt you in any other way?” Siwon asked, stepping closer. They had heard tales of prisoners, of the things that had been done to them, the humiliation...
“No, I was lucky.”
“Would you tell me if they had?” Siwon pressed.
To his surprise, Han Geng laughed. “Shiy... Yes! I would. But I assure you, the only wounds I have are on the outside.”
Except for the nightmares. Some of Han Geng’s trusting nature had been bruised as well. But if Siwon had any say, he would get that back. Siwon’s life would be dedicated to that.
“What is the first thing you will do when you return?” Siwon asked him. Helping him to look forward toward a happier time.
Han Geng drew up a knee and considered the question. “When I have greeted my family… I would go see and make sure that the family who was there when I was taken are all right. They threatened the children to gain my compliance.”
Yes, that was the prince he knew. He could not help his smile. “I saw the family right before I left. The boy wished me safe journey to find you. I think he will join you to fight as soon as he is old enough to hold a sword to do so.”
“I did what any other man would have done.”
“Maybe not any other man,” Siwon corrected. “I imagine by the time we return the tale will have changed. Instead of saving a boy’s life, you would have saved a whole village full.”
“Then we would set the story straight. Would they see me as strong if they knew how I had been kept? Like a dog, or…”
“Worse than a dog.” Siwon reached, squeezed Han Geng’s forearm. “If you mean to think that being able to survive what you went through is weak, then I wish to be strong like you one day. That is how I see you.”
“Then we respect each other,” Han Geng said, lifting his eyes to Siwon’s. “For what it seems we cannot see in ourselves.”
He trembled inside, at the prince’s words. Han Geng had moved his arm, so that Siwon did not clutch it, but that their hands were clasped equally on the other’s forearm. Han Geng’s hand was warm and steady, and it did nothing to change Siwon’s opinion in the least, as he let Han Geng’s arm go. The solid feel of flesh and bone under his hand, the touch of a person. No. Of Han Geng. He wrapped it deep inside himself. Another day, he would think on it. But not yet.
***
All Kyuhyun really wanted was to stretch out on the bed, and let himself melt into it. It wasn’t too often that he got into the manual labor side of things, so stacking the containers of rice had been oddly satisfying. Of course, his shoulders were letting him know it as well. They had managed to finish ahead of the storm, and he could hear the rain falling hard outside. And the thunder.
The knock on the door surprised him... No one would usually disturb him this late, unless it was urgent for the king. A draft from the hallway rushed in as he opened the door, and saw Zhou Mi standing there... A steaming pot and two mugs on a tray in his hands.
“I’ve brought you a drink,” he said, as though Kyuhyun couldn’t see that for himself. “Can I come in?”
He looked longingly at his bed. Sleep... Or Zhou Mi. Sighing a bit, he pushed the door open wider. The tray was set on the low table near the fire, and Kyuhyun joined him there.
“I thought you might like something hot before you sleep. You worked hard today,” Zhou Mi said, pouring tea into the cups.
“So did you...” Still, he accepted the cup with a nod of thanks.
The heat of it sank into him, and soothed him.
Thunder boomed from somewhere above them, and the tray rattled as Zhou Mi’s knee hit it. Ah-ha, Kyuhyun thought. So there was more to this visit after all. Zhou Mi stared at the window as though the lightning and thunder were going to crawl in it, and strike him.
“Are you always this afraid of storms?” he asked idly, letting his fingers curl together on the hot pottery.
“I... Yes, I have always been like this. A storm in an unfamiliar place is very...foreboding to me. Most of the time I’m all right. I know, it’s irrational. But there’s nothing really I can do. I was hoping... If I could stay the night near someone...”
“And you thought to come to me? Why not someone that came with you?”
“You have a very...soothing presence,” Zhou Mi murmured. “I don’t know if I would have been as easy. And you know this place! You’re unafraid. That helps.”
He had heard of grown men being afraid of more trivial things than storms, he mused. And there would be something slightly eery about a bad storm in an unfamiliar place. Somewhere where you couldn’t know that a flood would not rush in, or a tree fall, or a fire...
“You sleep quietly?”
“So far that I know,” Zhou Mi answered quickly. “If I make a noise, just cover me with a pillow.”
“I doubt you’ll make more noise than the storm.”
“Oh... Thank you, Kui Xian. I’ll carry all of the books tomorrow.”
Kyuhyun set down his cup. “I’ll remember that promise. I don’t have two pillows...”
“Oh! I’ll get mine!”
Zhou Mi was out the door before he could even think to protest. Was there some way to bar the door before he returned? Probably not. Instead, he stood to blow out his lamp, straightening his things for the morning. Zhou Mi slipped back in, closing the door with a quiet thud and looking quite unsure of himself.
“It’s really all right if I stay?”
“It won’t be if you ask again.”
For some reason, that sentence made Zhou Mi beam, from Kyuhyun’s face and back down to the pillow in his arms, and Kyuhyun felt scalded by it. One smile shouldn’t do all that.
He kept himself from releasing the groan, as he sank back into the mattress. Instead, a pleased hiss. Zhou Mi was next to silent beside him, though no more than a few inches were between their arms.
“Do you ever think...” Zhou Mi began. “Or wonder, I guess, what would happen if the wedding didn’t happen?”
Kyuhyun’s eyes popped open. He had started to think of Zhou Mi as a permanent fixture, someone in his life that was written in stone. But if the wedding were somehow interrupted, postponed, canceled... It would be Zhou Mi’s place to return with his mistress. Of course, if he asked... The king would certainly accept his service, but would he? To desert the family he had come with.
Still, he was pragmatic.
“Do you think that it is possible it might not happen?” he asked, turning his head to see the other’s profile.
“I think King Han Jun has warmed to her. I know that she isn’t opposed to the wedding as much.”
“Of course... She’ll be a queen.”
Zhou Mi laughed. “Women are peculiar. Your king is a good man, and he has care for his family. I think that has swayed her.”
“More care than some men,” Kyuhyun agreed. “I think they are well suited.”
“Will the prince marry?”
“Maybe... If he doesn’t have any nephews running the hallways within a few years.”
Out of the quiet a moment later, “Will you?”
“I have no title or wealth to pass on to a son. My mentor, when my parents died... He took me in, raised me and educated me. I know there are others out there in want of care. I think, that that might be what I might do in thanks.”
“That is a lovely thing, Kui Xian.”
He shrugged a little, knowing Zhou Mi wasn’t looking. Of course, he didn’t know the first thing about educating a child. Still, as he slid into sleep, he mused that it should be Zhou Mi, with his clean hand, who should teach the child to write.
***
Author: Coley Merrin
Rating: R eventually (language, sexual situations)
Pairings: Siwon/Hankyung and Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi
Genre: AU, historical, romance
Summary: Abducted from the people he protects, Prince Han Geng vanishes, lost to men who care nothing for his safety. It is Siwon, a loyal soldier, who is tasked with bringing him back alive.
And while the search continues to save a life, Kyuhyun must find a way to ally himself with his future queen's steward - to overcome mistrust and join two countries.
***
Siwon let the horse’s stamina guide how fast they went, and for how long. The gelding was young and fit, but there was an extra man on him no matter how light he was. After a couple of hours they stopped from necessity, letting the horse drink his fill from a creek. He got the heavy skirt and top off of Han Geng, which left him in the filthy, stinking clothing he had been left in the jail with. But it would have to do, at least until they stopped at night. If they found another creek, perhaps they could find a way to wash Han Geng without freezing him.
“Are you more comfortable in front of me or behind me?” Siwon asked, some of the first words they had exchanged.
“Behind,” Han Geng said, not meeting Siwon’s eyes. There was some pride in that. “But I’ll be honest, I don’t know if I have the strength right now to keep myself on.”
“You will.” Siwon smiled at him.
It was as though they had agreed to put aside titles for the moment, the more pressing matter of getting Han Geng home sitting on them both. It was as though they were on the battlefield. And in a way, they were.
“Are there any wounds that need attention? Anything...”
“No. I can ride. Let’s get as far away as we can before the sun sets. If I pass out... I haven’t slept. I haven’t... Just keep riding.”
He offered Han Geng his water skin, watching him drink deeply. He refilled both of them that he had brought, and helped Han Geng onto the horse.
They rode again for hours, picking carefully as they followed in the stream, until it grew too narrow to walk in. The gelding shuddered, but gladly pulled himself up onto to bank. Han Geng, as he had warned, sagged between Siwon’s arms. Even despite the warning, Siwon raised a hand, checking for a heartbeat. Han Geng had felt secure enough, or was tired enough, to let himself slip into unconsciousness.
***
The castle accounts were under Kyuhyun’s purview. Inventories, lists, coffers. Everything came to his notice so that he could report on it to the king. He had employed the most well educated servants to keep the thick ledgers, those with the most legible writing and grasp of numbers kept the tallies. As season fell to season, especially as harvests came and went, and winter approached, the numbers became most important.
“Do you mean to replace me, Your Majesty?” he’d queried the king, when the suggestion had come that Zhou Mi also should be involved. He had not had a helper in the task since his predecessor had retired, and thought he did very well keeping up with it himself.
“You would work yourself into the grave,” the king had said, his eyes humored by Kyuhyun’s question. “With the lady’s household added to ours, and her goods arriving even now, it couldn’t hurt for Zhou Mi to be aware of the house, and it will lighten your load. I trust your judgement of people, Kyuhyun. Is it safe that he should learn that information? Would he use that against us?”
That had been uncomfortable. Imagining Zhou Mi using the lists of numbers, spying and informing their enemies. He tried to imagine an underhanded expression on Zhou Mi’s face, and nearly laughed in front of the king.
“No, Your Majesty. We’ll start immediately.”
And they had, that afternoon, collecting records and books, Zhou Mi graciously carrying what Kyuhyun could not. It had taken him one trip instead of two. So he had saved time already. And for hours, they had poured over the accounts. With so many people to feed, so many storage rooms, it took time to manage it all. Candles were lit, and a bright fire to aid their task. Kyuhyun sent for a light supper, eaten away from the delicate pages in virtual silence. And still they had worked. A maid chanced by with a small cask of wine, and they had stopped entirely to enjoy it.
“Everyone who will speak to me speaks very highly of the prince,” Zhou Mi said, pulling his chair just that much closer.
“He is a good prince,” Kyuhyun agreed, warmed by the alcohol and the comfortable chair near the fire. “He and our king were born with the same face. Instead of moaning that it should have been him on the throne, our prince uses his time to train our soldiers and care for our people. He may not be king, but he is needed here. He is most trusted by His Majesty.”
“Then you must work closely with Prince Han Geng.”
“Yes... I hold him in high esteem.”
“Something not given lightly or quick by Kui Xian,” Zhou Mi said.
“Don’t call me that,” he reprimanded, but it didn’t shake the quiet expression. Still, the way Zhou Mi had said it, that his esteem was held close was almost the slightest bit wistful, as though he desired to be held in Kyuhyun’s favor as well. He supposed that he did hold Zhou Mi a little higher than he had. He wasn’t the yappy little lap dog that Kyuhyun had first assumed, barking after Kyuhyun’s heels and bothering him in his routines.
There were times he found Zhou Mi’s presence to be a bit pleasant, turning to him with a question or a suggestion. And when Kyuhyun spoke, Zhou Mi answered his requests swiftly and effectively. Dispatching servants, organizing people with almost brutal efficiency. But he didn’t give to Kyuhyun. While he wasn’t loud or annoying, if he disagreed with Kyuhyun’s advice, he said so. And more often than not, he had a point, something that refined a task for the better, such as the storage of the goods that Zhou Mi had ordered brought. In theory, they ran two separate households, but working together, they functioned almost seamlessly as one. And while without grudge, Zhou Mi gave his respect for Kyuhyun’s position, his knowledge of the castle and the estate, he did not pretend falsely that he was somehow less than Kyuhyun.
But even if he had a tiny seed of respect for the man’s skill as an organizer, his trust was still withheld. It had been nearly two weeks since the prince had gone missing. In retrospect, the arrival of the king’s future bride had been good for them all, the king especially. It had given him something else to focus on besides the absence of his brother. They had all sent their share of prayers after Siwon in his quest. And from what he knew of Siwon, he would either come home triumphant with the prince alive, or he would bring back his body in sorrow. For Siwon, those were the only two options.
But he could see why Zhou Mi would be curious. The absent prince was a dynamic he hadn’t been exposed to. And assuming he truly had no knowledge of event, the prince’s place in the castle routine would need to be explained to him. Everything Kyuhyun knew, Zhou Mi would need to learn.
He wasn’t sure he had it in him to detail that, until the prince returned. Not yet.
“I can’t tell you about his schedule...” he began, trying to think of an excuse that would ring as the truth that didn’t intimate the worry that was in his heart. He could snidely imply that it was because there was no trust between them, but even that read false.
“I understand,” Zhou Mi interrupted, his voice soft. Maybe Kyuhyun had given too much away in talking about his esteem...
“We should sleep. These records will wait for us till the morning.” And the drink had made him maudlin enough without dwelling on things far beyond his control.
Zhou Mi waited until he had stood, helping him to stack the pages and tidy the crudely bound account books. His eyes strayed a bit too long on Zhou Mi’s hands. Long fingered, and with fine penmanship, he mused. The skin was probably cool there...
“Sleep well, Kui Xian,” Zhou Mi said, and his eyes shot to Zhou Mi’s face. The warm smile sent a flush down his spine.
The man had no right to wash away his worry with nothing but an expression and a few words.
“Always,” he managed to get out. “You as well.”
He realized as he swung the heavy door of his room closed, that he hadn’t corrected Zhou Mi’s use of his name. In the end, he mused, bundling himself in the thick covers, it really didn’t matter.
***
Han Geng breathed the stench of waste, hands exploring the wall of the dark cell, grasping at anything that would give him some idea of where he was. Or when it was. His stomach lurched, the ill feeling familiar to him as light blinded him. The face of his jailer came out of his dream.
“We found you,” the man said, laughing in great humor. “Found you cowering like a dog.”
“Siwon...”
An eyebrow rose. “The man with you? Him?”
Beside him, a body. Stretched out as though sleeping. But his clothes were stained, stiff with blood, his throat a horrible wound... Eyes blank.
“No!” he screamed, rushing at the jailer. But his hands wouldn’t work to choke the life from the laughing man. Instead, hands circled his own neck, squeezing until he couldn’t swallow, until he couldn’t breathe, until the pain of it made his head throb and eyes blur, all the while...the man laughed...and laughed...
***
“Han Geng!”
His prince was trying to shout, wordless, in his sleep, struggling against something unseen. A nightmare. Not uncommon after battle... Or stress or trauma.
He leaned over Han Geng, squeezing his shoulders and saying his name. Feeling Han Geng rise up out of the grasp of the terror.
“Shiyuan? he asked. “You’re alive...”
“I’m fine,” Siwon soothed him. “You’re all right now, too.”
Han Geng swallowed. “Oh. Oh. It was a nightmare.”
“Yes.”
Siwon realized he had been stroking Han Geng’s cheek, and forced himself upright. “Did you want to speak of it? Or is it best left alone?”
“I was back in the cell...And you were with me. They had killed you, and were killing me...”
“I won’t let them take you back,” Siwon said simply. “They’ll have to kill me first.”
“Siwon... That dedication...”
“You are known to me. Almost my whole life. Why should I not be dedicated and loyal to the man who looks after his people?”
Han Geng’s smile curved, but his head dropped. “Yes. The prince demands it.”
“No,” Siwon said, grasping Han Geng’s forearm. “Your title gives you the means to help, but it is you, the person, that does those things. The villagers look to you with awe as their prince, and as a good man. It may be wrong to say, and you must forgive me, but being a good man is worth more.”
“It is not wrong to say. Being a prince does not mean someone is good... Or being a king. I don’t do it to be seen as good. I just...see the need. We fight for these people and their safety, but their children go hungry? I can’t bear it.”
Siwon clasped both his hands over Han Geng’s, surrounding it in warmth. “We know of King Han Jun’s support and encouragement of you as well. I left before much news of your being taken had spread, but those who knew sent me with many prayers for your safe return. I hope they will keep your dreams clear as well.”
Han Geng hesitated, rubbing an unsure hand over his arm. With some deliberateness, he gathered the blanket, moving until he sat beside Siwon. Leaning against his shoulder, their heads close. “My mother used to say that just being near someone could drive the nightmares away.”
“I’ll even get a big stick and run it through.”
Han Geng laughed softly. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Siwon. I don’t feel like I have to pretend around you. So... Thank you.”
Siwon grasped Han Geng’s offered hand, their fingers lacing tightly together, palm against palm. He turned, ready to say, “Of course, Your Highness.” Or something closer to what he refused to admit, “I’m glad I’m with you, too.”
But Han Geng had already sank into sleep, head drowsy, heavy on Siwon’s shoulder. Han Geng… He forced his eyes away. Siwon adjusted the blanket at his shoulder, and allowed himself to doze, the quiet sound of the gelding cropping grass and Han Geng’s soft breathing lulling him into sleep.
***
Siwon woke with his arm around Han Geng’s shoulders, Han Geng’s head fully against him, his body curving there. He was still deeply asleep, a hand curled at Siwon’s waist. He had grown his whole life knowing this man as a prince, from the time he had first met Han Geng and Han Jun. He couldn’t have been more than four, the princes, clotted together with wide eyes, probably only six. They had been watching, learning, to fight. Siwon didn’t remember the strokes of the sword that day, but he did remember his teacher whispering to him, that those are your princes. Respect and obey them. It hadn’t been difficult to tell them apart. Han Jun was bolder, standing with pride that had been beaten into him by his uncle. Han Geng, quieter, from his voice to his laugh, different from his brother. It had been Han Jun’s boldness that marked them for friendship. Calling out Siwon to spar with him when their training began in earnest. He had fought with the idea of keeping the prince safe, and Han Jun had walked all over him. So he had been pinned with a red face as the men around them laughed, and Han Geng had knelt by them.
“You don’t have to be easy with us,” Han Geng said, his hand curling around his brother’s arm. “We need to learn... You’re a good fighter, Siwon.”
He had been too embarrassed to even look at them for a while. But the next time, it had been he who had pinned Han Jun. And there had been something in their grins that spoke of understanding. He had always wondered if Han Geng had felt badly toward him. As brothers born together, it was easy to spot their closeness. They could nearly read each other’s thoughts at times. And for Siwon to intrude... But in the little time they had for play, it had been the three of them defending their “forts” and taking “journeys.” No matter if he and Han Jun seemed to understand each other, Han Geng was always beside them.
And Han Geng was beside him now. He studied the parted mouth, how familiar it was to him. And different. Because it was Han Geng, and he had not contemplated that for quite some time. He inhaled sharply at the thought, those lips would be soft against yours, and that movement woke Han Geng.
He buried against Siwon’s warmth, breath damp against Siwon’s neck and his whole body felt it.
What was wrong with him?
“Good morning,” Han Geng said at length, voice a little raspy from sleep. “I seem to have used you as a pillow.”
“I’m at your service,” Siwon joked. “It’s cold enough for that to be a good thing.”
“I slept like the dead...”
There was a certain amount of apprehension in that statement, as though he had prepared himself to be awake to watch out for danger. As though he thought that were somehow required of him.
“No one will come up on us without me knowing,” Siwon assured him.
“I trust you... That’s why I slept so deeply.”
“You’re still recovering.” He stood, helping Han Geng onto his feet as well. For a long moment, Han Geng’s body sagged into his, before he seemed to find a sense of his own balance.
“I hate feeling weak,” he murmured, pushing himself back from Siwon.
“You’re much better already... Don’t trouble yourself in front of me.”
Han Geng smiled. “You should be thinking of a reward that suits you best... When we return, I think Jun would be willing to offer you anything. Indeed,” Han Geng joked, “he might be willing to replace me with you.”
“Never,” Siwon said, jiggling Han Geng’s elbow. He ignored Han Geng’s suggestion that he be rewarded. What happened would happen. It was, in some way, enough that the man with him was alive, but he knew there would be a reward. With this family, there had to be. “If you want to refresh yourself, I’ll put together some food.”
Han Geng nodded, picking his way carefully as though his bones were old. Siwon hid his smile, and pulled out the hard cakes and fruit that were to be their breakfast.
***
He could tell Han Geng was stronger, just in the way that he was more alert. He stayed awake nearly the whole morning as they traveled, dropping off in some sort of half sleep for a little while. Siwon hated to wake him, but it was necessary as he stopped to water the horse. Han Geng stretched out on the grass, pulling his body over his legs, to work tender muscles.
“I am all purple and green and yellow,” Han Geng said, and when Siwon turned, he realized that Han Geng had lifted his tunic to inspect the bruises on his ribs, on his side.
“Do they hurt still?”
“Not as much,” Han Geng said, touching the healing bruise over his cheekbone.
“They had no right to hurt you.”
“At least my bones are still whole.” Han Geng was finding the bright spot, where Siwon usually would have. “I know you and Jun will grumble, but if we can avoid a war, there’s no sense starting one over a few bruises. I suspect… The ransom money was too much to pass.”
“Did they hurt you in any other way?” Siwon asked, stepping closer. They had heard tales of prisoners, of the things that had been done to them, the humiliation...
“No, I was lucky.”
“Would you tell me if they had?” Siwon pressed.
To his surprise, Han Geng laughed. “Shiy... Yes! I would. But I assure you, the only wounds I have are on the outside.”
Except for the nightmares. Some of Han Geng’s trusting nature had been bruised as well. But if Siwon had any say, he would get that back. Siwon’s life would be dedicated to that.
“What is the first thing you will do when you return?” Siwon asked him. Helping him to look forward toward a happier time.
Han Geng drew up a knee and considered the question. “When I have greeted my family… I would go see and make sure that the family who was there when I was taken are all right. They threatened the children to gain my compliance.”
Yes, that was the prince he knew. He could not help his smile. “I saw the family right before I left. The boy wished me safe journey to find you. I think he will join you to fight as soon as he is old enough to hold a sword to do so.”
“I did what any other man would have done.”
“Maybe not any other man,” Siwon corrected. “I imagine by the time we return the tale will have changed. Instead of saving a boy’s life, you would have saved a whole village full.”
“Then we would set the story straight. Would they see me as strong if they knew how I had been kept? Like a dog, or…”
“Worse than a dog.” Siwon reached, squeezed Han Geng’s forearm. “If you mean to think that being able to survive what you went through is weak, then I wish to be strong like you one day. That is how I see you.”
“Then we respect each other,” Han Geng said, lifting his eyes to Siwon’s. “For what it seems we cannot see in ourselves.”
He trembled inside, at the prince’s words. Han Geng had moved his arm, so that Siwon did not clutch it, but that their hands were clasped equally on the other’s forearm. Han Geng’s hand was warm and steady, and it did nothing to change Siwon’s opinion in the least, as he let Han Geng’s arm go. The solid feel of flesh and bone under his hand, the touch of a person. No. Of Han Geng. He wrapped it deep inside himself. Another day, he would think on it. But not yet.
***
All Kyuhyun really wanted was to stretch out on the bed, and let himself melt into it. It wasn’t too often that he got into the manual labor side of things, so stacking the containers of rice had been oddly satisfying. Of course, his shoulders were letting him know it as well. They had managed to finish ahead of the storm, and he could hear the rain falling hard outside. And the thunder.
The knock on the door surprised him... No one would usually disturb him this late, unless it was urgent for the king. A draft from the hallway rushed in as he opened the door, and saw Zhou Mi standing there... A steaming pot and two mugs on a tray in his hands.
“I’ve brought you a drink,” he said, as though Kyuhyun couldn’t see that for himself. “Can I come in?”
He looked longingly at his bed. Sleep... Or Zhou Mi. Sighing a bit, he pushed the door open wider. The tray was set on the low table near the fire, and Kyuhyun joined him there.
“I thought you might like something hot before you sleep. You worked hard today,” Zhou Mi said, pouring tea into the cups.
“So did you...” Still, he accepted the cup with a nod of thanks.
The heat of it sank into him, and soothed him.
Thunder boomed from somewhere above them, and the tray rattled as Zhou Mi’s knee hit it. Ah-ha, Kyuhyun thought. So there was more to this visit after all. Zhou Mi stared at the window as though the lightning and thunder were going to crawl in it, and strike him.
“Are you always this afraid of storms?” he asked idly, letting his fingers curl together on the hot pottery.
“I... Yes, I have always been like this. A storm in an unfamiliar place is very...foreboding to me. Most of the time I’m all right. I know, it’s irrational. But there’s nothing really I can do. I was hoping... If I could stay the night near someone...”
“And you thought to come to me? Why not someone that came with you?”
“You have a very...soothing presence,” Zhou Mi murmured. “I don’t know if I would have been as easy. And you know this place! You’re unafraid. That helps.”
He had heard of grown men being afraid of more trivial things than storms, he mused. And there would be something slightly eery about a bad storm in an unfamiliar place. Somewhere where you couldn’t know that a flood would not rush in, or a tree fall, or a fire...
“You sleep quietly?”
“So far that I know,” Zhou Mi answered quickly. “If I make a noise, just cover me with a pillow.”
“I doubt you’ll make more noise than the storm.”
“Oh... Thank you, Kui Xian. I’ll carry all of the books tomorrow.”
Kyuhyun set down his cup. “I’ll remember that promise. I don’t have two pillows...”
“Oh! I’ll get mine!”
Zhou Mi was out the door before he could even think to protest. Was there some way to bar the door before he returned? Probably not. Instead, he stood to blow out his lamp, straightening his things for the morning. Zhou Mi slipped back in, closing the door with a quiet thud and looking quite unsure of himself.
“It’s really all right if I stay?”
“It won’t be if you ask again.”
For some reason, that sentence made Zhou Mi beam, from Kyuhyun’s face and back down to the pillow in his arms, and Kyuhyun felt scalded by it. One smile shouldn’t do all that.
He kept himself from releasing the groan, as he sank back into the mattress. Instead, a pleased hiss. Zhou Mi was next to silent beside him, though no more than a few inches were between their arms.
“Do you ever think...” Zhou Mi began. “Or wonder, I guess, what would happen if the wedding didn’t happen?”
Kyuhyun’s eyes popped open. He had started to think of Zhou Mi as a permanent fixture, someone in his life that was written in stone. But if the wedding were somehow interrupted, postponed, canceled... It would be Zhou Mi’s place to return with his mistress. Of course, if he asked... The king would certainly accept his service, but would he? To desert the family he had come with.
Still, he was pragmatic.
“Do you think that it is possible it might not happen?” he asked, turning his head to see the other’s profile.
“I think King Han Jun has warmed to her. I know that she isn’t opposed to the wedding as much.”
“Of course... She’ll be a queen.”
Zhou Mi laughed. “Women are peculiar. Your king is a good man, and he has care for his family. I think that has swayed her.”
“More care than some men,” Kyuhyun agreed. “I think they are well suited.”
“Will the prince marry?”
“Maybe... If he doesn’t have any nephews running the hallways within a few years.”
Out of the quiet a moment later, “Will you?”
“I have no title or wealth to pass on to a son. My mentor, when my parents died... He took me in, raised me and educated me. I know there are others out there in want of care. I think, that that might be what I might do in thanks.”
“That is a lovely thing, Kui Xian.”
He shrugged a little, knowing Zhou Mi wasn’t looking. Of course, he didn’t know the first thing about educating a child. Still, as he slid into sleep, he mused that it should be Zhou Mi, with his clean hand, who should teach the child to write.
***
